


Med Wolf

by Doctor_Lavellan



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, BDSM, D/s dynamic, Dungeon, Erotic Photography, F/M, Fade Medicine, Fluff and Smut, Graphic Descriptions of Surgery, Kink, Light Angst, Med Wolf, Multi, No Blood Play, S&M, Sadism, Sera Being Sera, Sex Magic, Shibari, Smut, Surgery, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unresolved Sexual Tension, because I couldn't resist writing a Med Wolf fic, doctor! Solas, doctor!Solas, doctor!lavellan, dom!solas, erotic humiliation, kinky fuckery, not embarrassed, ok I have written a lot of med wolf fics, sexy!solas, slightly silly, surgery kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-02 10:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10216421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Lavellan/pseuds/Doctor_Lavellan
Summary: Dr. Ellana Lavellan is an overworked surgical resident at the prestigious Skyhold Medical Center who gets her kicks at the local BDSM dungeon on the weekends. When the surgery department hires a new attending surgeon and expert on Fade Medicine, she quickly finds herself both intrigued and exhausted by his demanding work ethic. Increasingly stressed out and sexually frustrated, Dr. Lavellan turns to the infamous and mysterious new dominant at her dungeon to take her mind off the older elf's arrogant elegance in the OR. As political tensions escalate surrounding the future of magic's place in medicine, Ellana is forced to reconcile her heritage, her career, and her own desires in order to survive the craziness that is her life.





	1. Skyhold Med

**Author's Note:**

> This is a light little fic I've had bouncing around in my head for a while. I have more serious med wolf fics with more angst and darker themes but this one is fun to write and a bit irreverent so I thought it would be a good one to start with posting here. Feel free to comment and I apologize in advance for squicking anyone out with too much surgery/medicine detail. No apologies for the shameless kinky smut, however :P

"So," I muse, looking over the OR cases on the wall, "this new guy, Solas something, what's his deal?"

"No "deal", darling," laughs Vivienne de Fer, the surgery department's front runner for Chief. "He's an expert in Fade Medicine and was shockingly popular with the board."

"Why, is he Dalish?" I snort, thinking of the affirmative action that got me off the reservation and into medical school and which definitely played a part in landing me at such a prestigious residency as Skyhold Med.

"No, I think he must be city-born," my boss says, writing a couple finishing touches on the last case.

"What? He IS an elf?" I slide off the window perch I've made my chair and Dr. de Fer barely glances my way, already moving on to something else, and leaving me to blink in silence.

"Ah, absolutely delicious looking board today, Peaches!" Dorian Pavus, senior resident and one of my roommates announces with a flair.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," I grumble. "My name isn't exactly up there so–"

"Ahh, poor little Dr. Lavellan." Dorian grins and pats me unceremoniously on top of my messy blonde bun. "Still in the doghouse with our Dr. Nightingale eh?"

"Hey, Leliana and I are–" I protest but he cuts me off, swiping a finger across the screen of his phone to pull up a picture of said Dr. Nightingale holding a note.

"Zoom in, Peaches," he says, smile on his mustachioed face. I do, two fingers spreading out to reveal the neat message in her even hand: No OR for Ellana.

"Oh for Creators' sake, she can't still be mad!" I exclaim, pushing his phone back into his chest. He laughs.

"Of course not, darling; now she's just playing with you."

"Oh for the love of–"

"Right, what're you two on about then?" Sera asks, coming around the corner.

"Hey, you can't eat in here!" A voice calls out from the core and Sera stuffs the rest of her donut into her mouth looking sheepish.

Dorian gestures to the first case of the day, an appendectomy with only his name listed as the lead surgeon. He takes up the pink marker and writes "Lavellan" in the assisting surgeon slot.

"Hey, I'm scrubbin' that one, too, guys!" Sera exclaims. "Bull wanted to cuz of ugh you know, but I told him to sod off!"

"Thank you Dorian!" I call as he heads off to grab some breakfast. "I'll text you when the patient is rolling back!" 

"You guys grow up so fast," Sera says, miming a tear. "It was like just yesterday, innit? When you was just a lowly intern, yeah?"

"Dr. Ellana Lavellan," a new voice drawls and a gorgeous bald elf saunters up to the board. "A second year resident as of today, so yes–" he glances at the scrub tech's ID badge, "Sera, she was indeed a lowly intern like yesterday." 

"Oh." Sera snaps her gum and makes a rude gesture with two fingers behind his back before disappearing into the locker room. I snort then cover my mouth quickly.

"Something amusing, Lavellan?"

"Um, no, ha'hren," I say, the honorific slipping out before I can consider it. I don't meet many fellow elves in medicine, let alone in surgery. He raises one slightly auburn eyebrow and I notice the stormy blue grey of his eyes. Oh fuck me. "Uh, I um need to uh go….and prepare–"

"–your case, yes," he finishes for me, hands clasped loosely behind his back looking up at the board. "About that. Dr. Nightingale informed me that you were not to scrub in today."

"I think there's been a mix–"

"Quite." He cuts me off. Oh gods, his voice is like sex. I need to get out of here. "You will see to the discharges today and I will be scrubbing with Dr. Pavus." He selects the navy marker and erases my name with the tip of one long finger and replaces it with a neat looped script of his own, Solas. I am staring at those graceful hands and imaging them deep inside an open abdomen, fingers wrapped around renal arteries and other things.

He clears his throat and I realize I am blushing, having missed his query. "Is that acceptable, Dr. Lavellan?" He asks again, and does not look at me.

I nod, afraid that my voice would be little more than a squeak.

"Good. It is…good to be back here." He murmurs and I feel like he is no longer speaking to me. "Tarasyl'an Te'las. Hmmm." He folds his arms and saunters off leaving me confused and gaping after his Fade green scrub cap covered bald head.

***

"Ellana," Cassandra snaps her fingers later in the Swamp. "Are you still on board to bring some of those frilly Orlesian cakes to Josie's party next weekend?"

"Um, yes. I'll be post call, though…"

"Ok, Krem it is!" Everyone laughs remembering my last attempt at baking post call. Cremisius Aclassi, aka Krem, a third year resident who lives in my building, pats me gently on the arm and agrees to take care of my cakes.

I grumble a bit but don't really argue. I'm a better baker when drunk than after a night on call. Dorian swoops in to the resident room then and takes me by the arm.

"If we're finished, I'll be taking our former lowly intern home now," he declares and right away I know he's been speaking to Sera about my awkward run in with the new surgery attending this morning. Mythal preserve me.

"So Dr. Solas, huh?" He finally starts as we make the walk through Haven to our apartment complex. "More like Sol-ass, amirite?"

I snort, relieved at the direction of the discussion. "Yeah, he does seem like a bit of a dick." I say, kicking at piece of gravel.

"No, no, no, you misunderstood me." He grins. "What I mean is, that ass of his looks fantastic in those Fade green scrubs, doesn't it?"

"I wouldn't know," I murmur, feeling my cheeks warm.

"Ah yes, I suppose that's true," he concedes. "I do have it on good authority you are much more enamored with his hands."

"What? I uh no." I pull away from him, indignant.

"Ok, dear, but you are definitely scrubbing in the rest of the week on all of his cases so he must have taken a liking to you."

That stops me in my tracks. "But, Leliana said–"

"Oh, Leliana has decided that assigning you to Dr. Solas' cases will be much more fun than watching you skulk around the floor putting off the nurses."

Oh Creators.


	2. The Deep Roads

Leliana Nightingale is one of my oldest friends despite her role in the whole _Herald of Andraste_ business. It had not been her idea to "fetch the prettiest looking Dalish bitch" from the Clan and make them the mouthpiece of the chantry all those years ago. She just did the fetching. She and two other ex-Templars had come to the reservation after my high school graduation with promises of scholarship money and Keeper Deshanna had just eaten it up, just like everyone else did. Leliana hadn't known about the cameras anymore than I had. At least not at first. I found the first camera during my sophomore year and Dr. Nightingale explained everything that night. Explained all about the television show that was being planned. And the book deals. And gods, the money. So I agreed. I signed the papers. Took the money. And hid in shame the night my pilot aired on Chantry channel 7. The episode was called "the Conclave" and was a testament to the kindness of the Divine and backwardness of the Dalish. My face wasn't even shown the entire first season. That small kindness allowed me to apply for medical school relatively unknown. The show's popularity exploded and eventually I relented. Luckily, those days have largely passed. Not many shems are that interested in a Dalish Doctor; the good stuff is in the reservations anyway. I'm still the fucking _Herald_ , though. At least not many people ask for my autograph anymore.

***

His hands are just as elegant in the OR as I had fantasized. The entire week I am trapped with him on case after case, listening to his incessant frankly racist bullshit or infuriating silences, but either way I am not disappointed in the grace of his hands. Not one movement wasted, he is a genius. I am entranced and besotted and he knows it. It's really not fair at all. He smirks at me and my mouth goes dry. Fuck Leliana.

***

I have a dirty little secret and a dirty little pastime that none of my medical friends and no one having to do with the _Herald of Andraste_ ever managed to find out about. Well, one of the scrub techs knows. The Iron Bull. He was actually the one who introduced me to The Deep Roads, the BDSM dungeon outside of Crestwood. Introduced me last year after I lost my shit in a screaming match with one of the now-graduated residents. He had seen the reruns of the show and deduced that I needed a way to let off some steam. He had guessed correctly that I would take a liking to the activities at The Deep Roads, but had totally pegged me wrong as to what side of the flogger I would end up on. He saw my submissive, lowly intern repression and thought beating up on some of Haven's best and brightest was the cure I needed to make me feel powerful. I tried, sure. And ended up feeling so weirdly wrong that he took the flogger from me with a knowing smirk and told me to bend over. Oh and the rest is history. 

Bull topped me for my first couple visits to the dungeon, but he didn't hold my attention the way the mages in the Circle playroom did. Sure, magic was and is very highly regulated and dangerous, but there was something about the magic ones that drew me in past the chasind curtains in the back of the Deep. I haven't done a real scene in ages, but sometimes I just need to wrap all that leather and mystery around me and disappear into the anonymity of the dungeon. Even if I only watch. Or let a drunk shem grab my ass. Or let the Arcanist talk dirty to me in exchange for medical details; now, there's one kinky dwarf. 

Dagna, my other roomie, is one of the most popular dominatrixes at The Deep Roads. Somehow she's managed to keep my involvement from Dorian despite our shared quarters. Sometimes I assume it's because part of him already knows. Or rather, his interest in the Iron Bull has lead him to the Deep once or twice himself and he knows how to keep his mouth shut. But that isn't really like Dorian so I am left to wonder. And left to sneak out on Friday night after finally escaping from my last case with Dr. _Elven Glory_.

"Twelve hours, Dr. Solas." I groan, washing my hands as he follows me rambling about some Fade thing. As an apostate, I keep my magic hidden and try not to feel jealous as he describes the ways magic used to be more interwoven into medicine. 

"Please, just call me Solas, Dr. Lavellan."

"Ellana." I say, gritting my teeth. After this week, I think, I am going to need more than just a leather corset and Dagna. I shiver a little just thinking about the ache I could feel from some Mage in the back room. Some of that shit has to be illegal and I don't even care. _Fuck, I need it tonight._

"Ellana then," he says and I am shivering for a different reason, loving the way my name rolls off his tongue almost as much as I love the way he one hand ties his silk pop offs. I sigh and he is staring at me with an odd look on his handsome face. We both start to speak at the same moment.

"Well, I have a big th–"

"–doing anything this weekend or…"

 _Did he just ask me out?!_ No, no, no. I must be crazy. I really need to get to the dungeon or I will be a mess on night float all next week with him.

I wave him off with a chuckle and say goodbye after thanking him for an educational week. He looks like he wants to say more but I am too far gone from the hospital in my head already. I can already smell the leather. 

***

Unfortunately, neither a round with the Arcanist nor the Iron Bull slake the sense of unease from my tired muscles although they both wail on my ass for quite a while in the main play room. It's a quiet night without many onlookers, which, embarrassingly enough, may be part of why I'm just not getting off the way I crave.

"Ah, geez, Dagna, it's not you," I say, finally, sitting back on my heels and rubbing her exhausted, latex clad shoulders. The crop drops from her grasp and she smiles brightly up at me before helping me to pull up my leather panties.

"Oh, I know, Peaches. I heard about your new attending. Very demanding." Before I can protest, she winks and slaps me playfully across the face. "Little slut wants those Mage hands, doesn't she?"

"Shut up, Dagna." But she sees my blush anyway. 

"Well, you know, there just so happens to be a new head Mage Dom starting next week who goes by the name of some ancient Elfy demon God or something."

That piqued my interest. "Whoa, really? Have you met him or-"

"Chill out, Dr. L. I'll introduce you but he isn't doing much play, mostly just administrative stuff with the owners. He's new to Haven. Does shibari-rope bondage and photography, the classy kind that gets published. And that's all I know about him."

"Holy hell, Dagna, are you talking about Fen'Harel, like _the_ Fen'Harel?"

"Uh, yeah, that's the name; you've heard of him?" 

I snort. "Uh, yeah, he's only just the most famous erotic photographer, nay kink artist in modern times! His _Treatise on the Submissive Female_ inspired my entire sexual awakening!"

"Ok, there, eager beaver; I'm sure if you nerd out just like that, he'll definitely tie you up and gag you."

"You think?"

She pats me on the head between my pony ears headband. "Oh, honey, you have no idea."


End file.
